Fred still wasn't feeling all that well. After he'd woken up in Tonks' backyard on a transfigured hammock with a headache trying to pound it's version of a Weird Sister's tune and an overwhelming desire to use the loo, Fred had apparated back to his shared flat and downed an after-party potion (complete with cotton-mouth remover and hangover cure!) and took a shower.

He'd replied to some owls, business and personal, he'd sat down to eat some toast, when a letter from his mother came in with Errol, who seemed to have dropped dead on Fred's plate. He'd replied using a work owl, and silently made plans to go over to the Burrow. Despite what she'd said in the Howlers, he could understand that she had just been flustered over having to see all of it in The Daily Prophet, and had been a tad overly harsh. But it still hurt, Fred noted, as he made ready to head over to the Burrow. George had been nowhere to be found, so Fred decided just to go on his own.

He grabbed up his wand and apparated into his old bedroom, knowing that Molly kept their rooms clear and clean, in case any of them wanted to stay a night. Fred trampled down the stairs, like usual, and headed into the kitchen, "Mum? Are you around?" he called out, running a hand through his hair. His head still ached slightly, despite the potion, so Fred figured it probably had nothing to do with all of the alcohol he'd consumed last night, in order to forget the previous days' events.

"Fred, dear...Is that you?" Molly was at the kitchen table, busily working on the final rewrite of her cookbook when she heard Fred's voice. She stood just as Fred was walkin gin the kitchen door and a huge smile broke out across her face, the smile of a mother who's child has come home for a visit.

Molly immediately hugged Fred, squeezing him for extra measure. When she pulled away, she straightened his shirt, brushed back his hair, and, in general, made a large fuss over him. Being the mum that she is, Molly noticed something wasn't spot-on, he rsmile turned into a concerned frown.

"Are you feeling alright, Fred? You're looking a bit peckish. Do you want some tea...or cake...or maybe a sandwich?" Molly was already across the room and buried in the ice box, fetching the ingredients for all three.

Fred nodded throught the whirlwind of his mother fussing over him and ran a hand through his hair again, as soon as her back was turned, "Tea, I think," he said thoughtfully as he took a seat at the table, "maybe a sandwhich," he added as his stomach growled intensely, reminding him that Errol was probably still sleeping in his plate of toast.

"I think you might need to replace Errol, Mum," he said, drumming his fingers on the tabletop.

"He landed in a plate of food, this morning, and, well, hasn't moved since," Fred laughed.

Molly already had the tea on the stove and was finishing the sandwich when Fred decided he wanted both. She sliced a piece of cake for him and put both the sandwich and the cake in fornt of him before pouring his tea.

"There you go, Dear, eat up now." Molly sat across from him, her face in her hand and smiling.

Fred gave his mother a lopsided grin, "Thanks, mum," he told her gratefully, before picking up and biting into the sandwhich. Fred swallowed his bite before nodding at her, "I'm glad to be back, too," he smiled at her over his cup of tea.

"So, how've things been?" he asked, before taking another bite of tea.

"Busy, busy, busy." Molly motioned over to the stack of papers strewn at the end of the table. "Someday. I'll get that cookbook finished." She shook her head, it was turning out to be far more work that she anticipated, but she still loved it. "You'd think after you kids left, things would slow down."

"Your father is always busy with work or in that workshop of his," She laughed, "But that's nothing new. He's always got some new project..."

Molly scanned her son's face, her mother's intuition still sending up red flags, "But how are you, dear, is everything alright?"

Fred grimaced at the pile of papers that his mum had motioned to, he hated paperwork with a passion, except journals, in which everything was bound and kept neat.

He listened to her talk about his father, and paled slightly at the mention of his workshop. Ever since he was young, Fred had alwasy though his father's workshop was a bit of a creepy place, not to mention that one attack of the jinxed toy...

"Nothing's really wrong," Fred told her, "it's just yesterday..." he trailed off looking down into his tea.

"With the spells and everything, y'know," he said softly. He was really confused about what was real, and what had been influenced by the Death Eaters. Fred knew that he'd gone over to the table with the intention of flirting with the Slytherin, but doubted very much that he'd have gone to bed with him. At least he thought so...

Denying everything is so much easier when you don't have a conscience, Fred thought morosely as he bit into his sandwhich.

Molly reached over to grip her son's hand, a look of understanding and sympathy on her face.

"Oh Fred, I can't imagine what that must feel like...to have your desires toyed with like that." The word 'desires' hung a bit on her tongue, it was a strange thing to discuss with one of her children, but he was upset and had obviously needed his mum. She would do her best to support him and be understanding, especially after sending that howler. "But Dear, if you learned from it then it maybe it had it's purpose."

Fred set down his sandwich and looked at his mother, "I know, and I think I'm just going to give up on it, for awhile. Anyone, y'know?" he said meekly, squeezing her hand back, "I thought, I dunno, that there might have been... well, nevermind that now. Only one more day of this ruddy reunion, and then I can get back to work and on schedule, yeh? I think George and I will have to revise the line of capsules, but I've got a few more ideas, that we can add to a new and improved version," he told her, changing the subject with a false smile.

Molly smiled at her son, feeling very proud of him. "You know, they say you find the best ones that way...when you aren't looking." She winked at Fred before standing up and busying herself around the kitchen. There was always something to do. "That's how I met your father."

She turned when Fred starting talking about work, gripping the back of a chair and listening intently. She hadn't exactly been too supportive of the twins' business, despite it's success, but she knew Fred needed her to be right now, so she gave it her best effort.

Fred rolled his eyes when his mother turned her back, and mentioned a cliche. Despite it being an over-used saying, it helped slightly, even though Fred knew he was giving up on relationships and lo whatever for a long time. Forever, possibly.

Fred knew his mother wasn't interested in stories about work, but he decided to indulge himself in a bit of mummy-torture.

"Yeah, those LoonyLoopies that ended up in the punch? That line. They're like condensed, time-released potions. But, I talked to Professor Snape last night," Fred muttered the professor's name in a low tone, before continuing in a normal voice, "and he thought it might have had something to do with the wood the alcohol had been fermented in. So George and I have to take a look at that. We also might look into some kind of 'instant party', like the swamps. We had a lu'au last night, and everyone seemed to like the idea of a themed party," he told her, taking intermittent sips of tea as he explained to her his ideas.

Molly sighed and grimaced at Fred, she kept her tone light, but he had said far too many things that demanded a motherly retort.

"The LoonyLoopies that almost killed your only sister, those LoonyLoopies?" She sat back down in the chair across from him. "Fred, I know you and your brother are brilliant. You two always have been, and have always been a pair of pranksters, but can you please do your old Mum a favor? Please don't test out your products at public functions. You two have worked so hard, I don't want to see you lose everything over a bad judgement call."

She smiled at Fred, hoping her words didn't hold too much of a sting in his fragile state. "I spoke to Severus, he's dropping the civil suit against you and your brother. Next time, you might not be so lucky."

Instead of looking ashamed, Fred took an indignant stance with his body language and crossed his arms over his chest, "Do you really think that we're that reckless mum? Ginny's reaction really had nothing to do with our product. In fact, they probably kept Ginny from jumping Harry, there in public. Yeah, she got a little embarassed, but we thoroughly test all of our products, before even thinking about releasing them."

Fred huffed, even after all these years, he knew, despite how proud she was of their success, would never be fully behind what they'd succeeded in, "And the only reason Professor Snape dropped the case was because of the spells. He wouldn't have a leg to stand on," Fred waved his hand, "We would have settled, anyway, just to keep his squaking quiet. We do have liability insurance, mum," he told her in a semi-patronising tone.

Molly sighed, she had expected as much of a reaction from her son. She lightly pushed his sandwich closer to him, "Finish your sandwich, dear."

Molly stood up to get herself some tea. She poured herself a cup and leaned against the counter. With a wave of her wand, the cream and sugar floated over and Molly added some of each to her cup.

"I know you're adults, Fred. But adults don't use their liability insurance as an excuse to wrap their old professor in fairy string...or cord...or whatever it is you boys call it. I'd just like you boys to be a bit more careful, is all." She sipped her tea, keeping her tone even and calm, she knew Fres was getting riled and the last thing she wanted was to have him storm out and be angry with her.

Fred huffed and picked up his sandwich, it was no use arguing with her about this, as usual. So he'd let it be, until the next time it was brought up, and hopefully George would be there to sweetly change the subject and take the focus off of Fred.

"I don't know mum," he said before taking a bite, "He wasn't home, when I left," he told her around a mouthful of sandwich. Fred had an idea of where George was, but he wasn't about to tell his mother that he suspected George had gone home with Angelina and Alicia.

Molly hoped some of her words had sunk in, but she was pretty sure they had bounced off his Weasley pride...something they got from their father, no doubt. (except when it was admirable, then it was all her!)

Molly sat back down at her papers, trying to organize them and sort through others. Her system was along the lines of organized chaos. "How's Harry? Ginny and Ron said he seemed alright. Probably as skinny as a rail, the poor boy."